


Finding Home

by Toryb



Series: Camp Bughead 2018 [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, I create a character who's just a real swell dude to help them out and guide them along their way, I take elements of canon and chop it upuntil it's unrecognizable, Runaway AU, Stupid teenagers running away from their problems hoping things work out best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 19:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toryb/pseuds/Toryb
Summary: After a slow descent into familial collapse in both the Cooper and Jones household, Betty and Jughead decided it's time to make like Romeo and Juliet and get out of there--any means necessary.





	Finding Home

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna thank Katie @buggghead on tumblr for helping me write an entire last paragraph because I couldn't figure out how to end this thing! This is my second submission for Buggie Break's Camp Bughead!

When the whole town was silent and only the crickets were awake to chirb, Betty and Jughead make their great escape from a sleepy town full of betrayal and faux pleasantries. They don’t tell a soul they’re leaving. Not anyone is allowed to know. They’ve sold the motorcycle--something that broke Jughead’s heart--and bought a van. It’s from the 70s, with chipping paint and shag carpet they’re sure can’t be sanitary. Betty steam cleans the rug since they’ll be living in it for the foreseeable future. 

  


Jughead saves up money for gas. Anything they find is donated to the fund: loose change in couch cushions, tips from the drive-in, anything and everything. Betty brings her tools to the trailer and fixes it up until it purrs pretty and runs like it’s brand new. He always lights up a cigarette while she’s working, a nasty habit he promises he’ll quit. “When we get out of here Betts. I promise the second we get out of here.” But some days it feels like they never will.

  


There’s always excuses. My sister. Your sister. The parents. Archie. Veronica. Kevin. The Serpents. The pleasantness of small town America. High school. Hot Dog.

  


But then Betty’s dad goes to jail. Hal Cooper, as it turns out, has murdered six people and counting, all without a second thought, a lick of remorse. The police have a confession, as well as a list of six victims and the places their bodies are buried. It’s impossible to deny it when he looks in his daughter’s eyes and swears it’s the truth. The TV and the public swarm her house.  There’s no rest for the Coopers after that, no safety, just a senseless storm off questions, like they’re on trial and about to be burned at the stake.

  


Around the same time, a single gunshot rings out in Fox Forest, and the next day Jughead gets a call that his dad is dad: shot through the stomach in a gang related act of violence. He has to come in and identify the body. FP Jones stares up at him with hollow eyes and a bullet right through the brain.

  


After that, the excuses stop mattering as much. They make their plan. Diplomas first, so they can at least get jobs wherever they go. Once they’re mailed out, grasped in their hands, Betty and Jughead pack whatever fits in the back of the vans and leave. Pillows, whatever clothes they can fit, their laptops, phones (though he doubts they’ll last long once Alice realizes what they’ve done, what they’re doing), and a few keepsakes, namely Caramel the Stuffed Cat and his old beanie.

  


Hot Dog tries to hop into the back of the van with them, and it takes three times for Jughead to get him to sit and stay. “I know boy. I’ll miss you too.”

  


It’s nearly midnight now, which means the roads will all be empty except a few truckers making long hauls from the maple farms in Canada. This is when they wanted to leave--when they wanted to say goodbye to the only place they’ve ever known. It’ll be less painful this way. That’s what they keep saying anyway. When Archie and Veronica wake up and find the texts on their phones--an apology, an explanation, and a goodbye--they want to be be far enough away their best friends won’t try and change their minds.

  


Jughead’s pretty sure Archie already knows. The air around them has tasted almost melancholy these last few days, bitter, resentful, and sad. They don’t talk about the future anymore, or even Riverdale. They talk about the things that they used to have, the people they used to be. It’s wistful. Archie isn’t as stupid as some people like to say he is.

  


“Maybe we can bring him with us,” Betty suggests, kneeling down to pet the dog. “Just as a...reminder of what we left. A little piece of Riverdale all for us.”

  


He can’t help but smile. “You know what? I think that’s a great idea. You want to come with us Hot Dog? Go on an adventure as far as this beat up old thing will take us?”

  


They get a bark in response and the decision is made. He hops in the back and Jughead puts the keys into the ignition. They pass by landmarks that hit the nostalgia in the pit of his stomach. The Drive-In. The School. The old Blossom Sign. Until it says “Thank you for coming to Riverdale-The Town With Pep!-Come Back Really Soon!”

  


Neither of them say a single thing about it--about how ironic it is to be passing by that sign right now. Hot Dog barks once and Betty reaches into the back to pet the sheep dog’s fur. He hears her mutter. “Yeah. Good riddance right?”

  


Jughead takes the first shift. The only plan is that they’re heading west, as west as they can go until they find the perfect place to settle down. Maybe they’ll only make it to Ohio. Maybe they’ll end up in Colorado. Maybe they won’t think it’s far enough until they settle down in sunny Southern California. Anywhere that isn’t Riverdale sounds nice to Betty.

  


At eight in the morning the text messages flood in. Veronica. Her Mother. Polly. Veronica again. Her mother six times, plus four phone calls. Jugheads phone buzzes only once. A text from Archie that says.  _ “I’ll see you again one day man.” _

  


Betty bemoans how simple male relationships can be. When they stop at a gas station in New Jersey, she finally answers the call. It’s loud. Full of yelling until she threatens to hang up the phone and never call her back. That gets Veronica to promptly shut up and rethink.

  


“We needed to leave V. We had to get out. You don’t know. You didn’t grow up there. But it’s suffocating. It’s so fucking suffocating. And with my dad-”

  


“No. No don’t explain anymore. I’m not owed you're explanations. I’m just glad you’re getting out while you can. Text me when you guys find yourselves okay? Maybe Archie and I will come visit.”

  


Her tenderness helps Betty to relax. She pulls on her ponytail once to ease some of her worries. “Don’t tell my mom. She’ll comes running after us if she thinks she can. My phone will probably stop working in about a week or so but Jug pays his own bill so you can text him.”

  


“Stay safe Betty. Enjoy your adventure. God knows if any two people in the world deserve something like this, it’s you both.”

  


They have dinner at a shitty dive that isn’t half as good as Pop’s, but it’s okay and, most of all, it’s food, which they need. A little extra of everything is saved for Hot Dog, who munches at it happily. The plan was to sleep in the back at an empty parking lot until they find a place it makes sense to settle down. A 24-hour video store is the perfect location. Sleep comes slower than either of them would have hoped--apparently leaving the town you always called you're home is not half as easy as it would seem. Betty cries into his chest, Hot Dog curled up at her back, leaving heavy licks along her shoulders to help ease the pain.

  


Waking up to a text message from her mother threatening filing kidnapping charges brings Betty to a new kind of tears. She calls her back and before Alice can probably give her a lashing, it fell right on her own ears.

  


“I ran because I knew you would never let me leave on my own. And I am leaving mom. No matter what you say. Pull me back to Riverdale and I’ll leave again. Every. Single. Time. i can’t be there anymore. I can’t. So you need to respect that and let me live my own life.”

  


Alice hangs up and doesn’t call again. Betty can tell by the expression Jughead has that he wishes he had a father to call and lecture him about runaway away with his girlfriend. But that’s a luxury he no longer has in his life. They make love in the van that night, with Hot Dog curled in the front seat. Metal walls shake and she screams like no one is around to hear them. Even though the parking lot they’ve picked isn’t completely empty at this point in the night, Betty can’t find it within her heart to care.

  


Something goes wrong about halfway to Ohio. The engine breaks and they need new parts. Money is already tight, despite Betty’s carefully planned out budget, so they can’t really afford things. It hurts, so bad Jughead has to hide behind the van to cry, but they sell one of the few expensive things FP had to his name. It was a baseball card, first print, that his own father had given him.

  


They fight over it, if she’s really going to let him sell it. It takes a lot of convincing, and even more kisses, but finally she lets it happen. The chunk of change gets them out of Ohio, with an engine that works better than they could have hoped, and a change of tires so they don’t blow a flat unless someone decides to lay out a pit of nails for them to fall into--which, realistically, is not outside the realm of possibilities given how furious Alice still seems to be, even if she is sitting at home and stewing it in instead of sending the nation on a man hunt for her daughter and her ‘vagabond lover.’

  


Anonymity shrouds them from town to town. Its a foreign luxury that growing up in small town America had not before been offered. Without labels that had been applied to them since they were just starting kindergarten, discovering who they are underneath ‘trailer trash’ and ‘perfect princess’ is an experience Jughead relished. Each day he discovers more and more things to call Betty, and she does the same in return. Baby. Sweetie. Angel. He calls her muffin one morning--the most superior of all breakfast foods--and she melts before him, bouncing him in the driver side and forcing him to pull over to the side of the road for a wake up call he won’t soon be forgetting. 

  


But there was also messy. Awkward. Different. Confused. All bits and pieces of the puzzle that was them as Juggie and Betts. This wasn’t the crime noir detective agency they had planned growing up, but it was shaping up into something beautiful.

  


But, being eighteen year old runaways is not easy, especially when the money dwindles fast. Their next misstep is in Colorado. Hot Dog is sick. Sicker than Jughead has ever seen him, and it’s not from a bad burger or an uncooked piece of bacon. He whimpers late into the night keeping them up. Neither of them mind, taking turns touching the only piece of Riverdale they have left. It’s been two months since they left and most of their ties have been cut. Archie and Veronica can’t exactly afford to send money for a dog they don’t know, and just last week Alice cut off Betty’s phone bill, apparently resigned to the fact her daughter was never coming home, so she might as well not have one anymore.

  


(The news had crushed Betty, who, despite everything, had been so hopeful that maybe this act of rebellion would help her mother see the error of her ways. If anything it had lengthened the chasm between them. 

  


“Maybe one day, Betts,” Jughead soothed, running a hand through her hair as she cried into his chest. “Maybe one day.”

  


The concept of ‘one day’ was something they held close to their chests. One day: life wouldn’t be so hard. One day: something would go right. One day: they’d have jobs and a house and a mortgage and a family, together. But for now they were all but orphaned, homeless, and on the run from something that had quit chasing them nearly one thousand miles ago.)

  


Jughead spends all day searching for a clinic that’ll take him. The bill for the stomach pump he needs to get better nearly make him sick. Betty’s already sold her phone--saved all of the pictures onto his laptop so she can have them again once things settle down for good in their lives. They have money set aside, but it’s for gas and food. He’s not sure he can do this to her. It feels like take take taking until that beautiful blonde angel takes his face in her hands and gives him a kiss, whispering. “We’ll figure it out.”

  


It’s comforting to know he’s not alone in this. They will figure it out, just like they figure everything else out. Of course Hot Dog would get sick just outside of a small town, one that mimics Riverdale in a way that’s nostalgically painful. At least in this small town, their lives haven’t been out on display for 18 years to mock and pick apart. 

  


He remembers an automobile shop just on the stretch of dirt outside of town, the paint almost rusted off the sign and a feeble old man sitting outside, holding a pipe as he rocks in his wooden chair. Maybe during times like this he can’t afford to leave all of his Serpent lifestyle behind. Jughead kisses Betty’s head, asking her to stay put with Hot Dog while he’s getting better. She seems unsure, but after a little pushing, agrees to his request. 

  


It doesn’t take long to get there and the backdoor is open. With a shaky breath and a prayer to a God he’s not even sure he believes in, Jughead makes his entrance. As quietly as possible, he sneaks around the garage, picking up stray tools that don’t look like they’ll be missed. He’ll pawn them off at the shop in town and hope they disappear into the nothingness like Bonnie and Clyde. But if he gets caught, well this isn’t an adventure he’d want to take Betty on anyway, but if prison ends up being part of it, he’ll be especially glad she’s safe at the dog hospital, far far away from his criminal actions.

  


Jughead’s luck has always been terrible. So it makes sense that right as he sneaking back out, the lights go on and he sees the old man from before, holding a baseball bat with his eyebrows raised. “Where do you think you’re going with that, boy?”

  


To Jughead’s surprise, he does not end up with two broken shins and handcuffs on his wrist. Instead he’s offered a cup of camomile tea and a seat at the wooden table on the front porch. He’s not sure how it happens, but after one look from the deep blue eyes of the old mechanic--his name is Owen, at least that’s what the name tag says--his entire life story comes pouring out. Every turbulent moment as a Serpent, the struggles the love of his life as faced branded as the daughter of a mass murderer, and of the recent woes, especially the fear his dog was as good as dead on the cold metal hospital slab.

  


The cigarette Owen offers goes straight between Jughead’s lips. He’s promised Betty a million times he’s going to quit, but in moments like this it’s the only thing that will take the edge off. The nicotine fills his expanding lungs until it all comes out in a single puff of grey smoke.

  


“Sounds rough kid,” is all the old mechanic offers in response. Somehow, it’s the best one he’s ever gotten.

  


“I’m sorry I tried to steal from you. I got desperate and I couldn't think of anything else to do. I know Betty would sell the necklace she’s got if she wanted. It’s silver plated so it’s worth something, but I couldn’t ask her to do that. It’s the only thing from home she’s got, a gift from her mom before this all went to shit.”

  


Owen nods slowly before squashing the ashes of the cigarette into the glass tray between them. “Here’s an idea. I need a few sets of hands around here. I’m getting old and frankly, I don’t give much of a shit anymore. You know your way around a bike and you said you're girlfriend worked classics? I’ll loan you the money for your dogs bills. Pay me back by working here. You won’t get much in the way of wages, but I’ve got a free room above the shop I’ve been meaning to rent out.”

  


It’s about the least manly thing he’s ever done, and Jughead doesn’t care, because when he starts crying, relieved that something is going their way for once, nothing else matters but the slow release of tension in his shoulders.

  


“Are you serious?” Jughead asks, eyes wide with disbelief. “But I just tried to steal from you.”

  


“Rule one of living here, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I mean what I say and I say what I mean. I’m not here to get your hopes up just to crush them. I’m an asshole, not a monster. Now help me into your van and we’ll go tell your girl the good news.”

  


Betty cries, though she’s unabashed in her happiness, throwing her arms around Owen and thanking him as many times as she can get out in a single breath. The doctor tells them that Hot Dog should be okay to pick up in the morning. This brings even more tears, and a kiss that probably shouldn’t be done in proper company, but neither of them can find it in them to care. 

  


In the car ride to the old shop, there’s a scolding Jughead should have expected from Betty. Her voice never gets too loud but he can practically taste the disappointment in the air. Truthfully, he can’t find it in himself to be upset. It got them jobs. A healthy dog. And maybe a home. That night they work out their bed properly. He apologizes again and again until his mouth his sore and she’s weak in his arms.

  


Owen isn’t always easy to work with. He’s a hardass, an asshole, and--despite claiming not to be--occasionally a monster. The way he likes things is set in his bones and only Betty, with a bat of her eyes and promises of pancakes in the early morning, can get him to rethink a decision he’s made or try a new technique on an old tractor.

  


It’s late one night, and Jughead’s working downstairs well past when he’s supposed to come in, but he’s stubborn and doesn’t like to be proved incompetent by machinery. Betty’s looking at the calendar on her phone--brand new as of last week. Six months. Six months since they left Riverdale. Four months since they found home at Owen’s Auto Shop. The old man sits quietly beside her, rocking in one of the many chairs she’s found scattered around. It helps his arthritis and easies his tremors.

  


“Can I get you anything?” she asks softly, sure not to wake him if he’s managed to fall asleep.

  


Owen opens up an eye and shakes his head. “Thank you sweetheart, but I’m fine. Don’t waste your worries on me.”

  


“I always will. You helped us out when no one else would. I owe you a lot Mr. Owen.”

  


He said she didn’t need to worry, but Betty picks up the blanket and puts it over him anyway. Sometimes she’ll find him out here fast asleep when she sneaks out to get a late night snack for a tired and grumpy Jughead.

  


The silence doesn’t linger long. Owen starts to speak. “You know that old silver picture frame up on the fireplace? Grab that for me won’t you?” Once it’s in his hands, he points to the woman on the right. The photo is in black and white, but Betty can tell the man used to be him from an earlier age, just without the worries etched into his skin. “That’s my wife. Her name was Lucille. We eloped when we were eighteen years old. Her parents hated me so we said fuck ‘em and ran as far as we could go. Only made it to Colorado before she told me she was pregnant. We set up this shop and lived like we always wanted to. Nothing fancy, but just us.

  


“She died a few years back, had a stroke, but she went out pretty peacefully. I’ve been lonely for awhile since and I couldn’t help but feel for you when Jughead was telling me all about what had happened. You made it a lot farther than we could have. I say that’s because of your smart head and his stubbornness,” Owen laughs. “Seemed stupid to turn you away when it was the same life I’d had. Glad I did, I haven’t had food as good as yours in years.”

  


Betty laughs and pulls him in for a hug. The old man doesn’t flinch or pull back, just brings her in a little closer and kisses her forehead. “Thank you for telling me that story. It was beautiful.” 

  


They don’t speak for the rest of the night. They don’t have to. When Jughead comes back in, greased up and exhausted, he can tell something has shifted for the better. He crawls into bed beside her--after a much needed shower--and kisses her forehead.

  


“Juggie…” her voice is barely above a whisper. Had he not been paying attention, her words would have gone unheard. “I’m glad we finally found our home.”

  


He smiles down at her. “I am too Betts. I am too.”

  


It’s not Riverdale, but there’s something strangely familiar about their new home. There’s a sense of belonging, a sense of contentment, maybe even a hint of destiny floating through the air as she snuggles closer and drifts off to sleep. That night she dreams about the days to come, when they’ll both share rockers like Owen and reminisce about their past. When all of their hardships will be merely a distant memory, a footnote in their shared history and a laugh for their future grandchildren when they tell them about the road trip gone wrong that landed them just where they needed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @tory-b
> 
> but also camp bughead at @buggiebreaks for more amazing content from amazing people


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